No More Deaths is a Tucson-based humanitarian organization that's mission is to help end suffering in the desert along the USA-Mexico borderlands. Throughout the year volunteers patrol migrant trails looking for people in need, giving medical aid, and placing water and food in strategic locations in the hope that it might save a life.
The summer months are a crucial time in this work, and to assist NMD in their mission I am asking for donations from friends, family and strangers to be collected between July 1st-15th. These donations will be driven out to Arizona in the 2nd half of the month.
For your convenience, there will be multiple drop-off locations around Los Angeles County. (If you or your organization/business/work would like to participate as a drop-off location please email me at xochitljulisa@gmail.com)
What to donate:
socks
running shoes
hiking boots
baseball caps
backpacks
jeans
t-shirts
underwear
You can also make a monetary donation directly to the organization by going here.
Where to donate:
BEYOND BAROQUE LITERARY/ARTS CENTER
681 Venice Blvd. Venice Beach
HRS: M-F: 8pm-10pm S-S: 11am-10pm (check event calendar for exact times)
http://www.beyondbaroque.org/calendar.html
TIA CHUCHA'S CENTRO CULTURAL & BOOKSTORE
13197 Gladstone Ave Sylmar, CA 91342
(818) 939-3433
Mon–Thurs: 2-8pm | Fri: 2-10pm
Sat: 11am-6pm | Sun: Closed (Cerrado)
ESPACIO 1839
1839 1st St
Los Angeles, CA 90033
(213) 399-9811
Wed - Thu: 12:00 pm - 8:00 pm
Fri - Sat: 12:00 pm - 9:00 pm
Sun: 12:00 pm - 6:00 pm
MARISCOS JALISCO
3040 E Olympic Blvd Los Angeles, CA 90023
M-S: 9am-6pm
Last year alone, 179 remains were found along the AZ-Mex borderlands.
For more information please visit the No More Deaths website.
Here is a poem inspired by my time on the border with No More Deaths. The video is directed by TV director and movimiento activist, Jesus Trevino.
Showing posts with label Arizona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arizona. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
John Stewart and the Arizona Ban on Mexican-American Studies
Check out the report by Al Madrigal for The Daily Show with John Stewart on the ban on Mexican-American ethnic studies program in Arizona. It's tragic that young Mexican-American students eager to learn are not allowed to learn their history and their cultural contributions to our nation.
A thanks to John Stewart for talking about Arizona's latest cultural atrocity.
Let it be known that in Arizona sharing a burrito is subversive.
And now the state legislatures have their eyes set on college ethnic classes.
A thanks to John Stewart for talking about Arizona's latest cultural atrocity.
Let it be known that in Arizona sharing a burrito is subversive.
And now the state legislatures have their eyes set on college ethnic classes.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Biking the Border
I met Katy and Eric in Tucson back in August with No More Deaths. At that time they had just come off of a 5 week stay in Nogales, MX helping newly deported migrants make phone calls home, locate their confiscated personal items, and document border patrol abuses. The efforts in Nogales is another major humanitarian project within No More Deaths. I spent one day there serving lunch in a soup kitchen and talking to men who waited at a dusty bus station all day for a chance to make a 5 minute phone call home from a pay-as-you-go No More Deaths cell phone. The one thing that stood out to me in Nogales was the waiting.
When I met Katy and Eric at a Tucson migrant half-way house, they told me of their plan to bike the entire border. I'm relieved to know they made it, and I'm impressed with their conviction to get up close and personal with immigration reform. I only wish more people would be willing to see for themselves what the border and the "illegal-immigration issue" really looks like.
“I think people in the north don't really understand what's going on in the southern borders,” said Katy. “Hearing politicians talk about a wall might sound feasible to people.”
“But when you come down and you witness it, it seems kind of crazy."
When I met Katy and Eric at a Tucson migrant half-way house, they told me of their plan to bike the entire border. I'm relieved to know they made it, and I'm impressed with their conviction to get up close and personal with immigration reform. I only wish more people would be willing to see for themselves what the border and the "illegal-immigration issue" really looks like.
“I think people in the north don't really understand what's going on in the southern borders,” said Katy. “Hearing politicians talk about a wall might sound feasible to people.”
“But when you come down and you witness it, it seems kind of crazy."
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Thanks, Ms. Johnson. You made a Difference.
A Youtube campaign in August had individuals making videos thanking the teachers in their lives that made a difference. When I saw this, you were the first person I thought of, and though you are no longer here, I wanted to thank you, Ms. Johnson, the only way I know how.
In American Lit at La Salle High School my Junior year, I remember reading Richard Wright’s Native Son as a class, and how you didn’t shy away from explaining the masturbation scene to a classroom of 20+ 16 year-olds. Or how you talked to us like people. You spoke about “impotence of power” with such earnestness I couldn’t giggle, and I had to listen.
As we followed Bigger Thomas around a dark and impoverished Chicago, as we read Wright’s graphic murder scene, you posed a question to us: “What happens to a person who has never seen beauty?”
What happens to a person who isn’t allowed beauty? You asked this, and I have never stopped trying to answer your question, Ms. Johnson.
You taught me other important lessons that I have not forgotten about literature and essay writing, and you were the first person to introduce me to feminist ideas. But it is your question that follows me everyday into the classroom, and it is what I now ask my own students. It is the question I look for every time I open a book; it is what I carried with me in my pack hiking in the Arizona desert; it is what I work for every time I write.
Thank you, Ms. Johnson. You made a difference in my life.
In American Lit at La Salle High School my Junior year, I remember reading Richard Wright’s Native Son as a class, and how you didn’t shy away from explaining the masturbation scene to a classroom of 20+ 16 year-olds. Or how you talked to us like people. You spoke about “impotence of power” with such earnestness I couldn’t giggle, and I had to listen.As we followed Bigger Thomas around a dark and impoverished Chicago, as we read Wright’s graphic murder scene, you posed a question to us: “What happens to a person who has never seen beauty?”
What happens to a person who isn’t allowed beauty? You asked this, and I have never stopped trying to answer your question, Ms. Johnson.
You taught me other important lessons that I have not forgotten about literature and essay writing, and you were the first person to introduce me to feminist ideas. But it is your question that follows me everyday into the classroom, and it is what I now ask my own students. It is the question I look for every time I open a book; it is what I carried with me in my pack hiking in the Arizona desert; it is what I work for every time I write.
Thank you, Ms. Johnson. You made a difference in my life.
Monday, September 26, 2011
9 Days in the Desert: A Photo Essay
First two nights with no more deaths we camped out in an old convent in Tuscon, AZ
A poster from No More Deaths' WRR campaign against SB 1070
The before photo. So fresh and so clean and ready to go.
The road to Byrd Camp aka NMD's home base
The desert in blume
The Surban with a broken frame but a working radio
Me hiking.
We left messages on the water to let the migrants know they could trust it. We also wanted to pass on some hope.
A gila monster we found dead and turned over on the road.
This marks the where the body of Josseline--a 14 year old girl traveling with her younger brother--was found by a No More Deaths volunteer after her coyote abandoned her in the desert.
Hiking among desert blossoms and underneath a blistering sun.
I love the flowers of the barrel cactus.
A breathtaking desert sunset.
Downtown Arivaca, AZ
I do believe it is hot here.
Me, ready to quit.
A water gallon slashed by Border Patrol. This is a common occurrence.
My Sharpie sketch of La Virgen de Guadelupe.
Montana Peak aka Hippy Mountain over looking Ruby and Ruby Lake beach.
Ruby Lake, less a lake and more a pool of green sludge, but when you haven't showered in days, you'll take it.
Refreshed and feeling good.
A virtual fence. These towers monitor hidden censors all over the desert that track migrants.
A dead tarantula in camp.
A dead baby gopher snake that a team of ants carried under a fellow volunteers tent.
A shrine to the migrants.
Welcoming and kind instructions for migrants.
The newbies looking good in front of the Frankentent and water supply.
It's hot and dry.
Desert life aka an ant hole
A destroyed and abandoned car in the middle of nowhere
Feeling good after the "Oak Tree" water drop and hiking into a canyon
The view
A live tarantula. They tend to come out at dusk.
Border Patrol are notorious for slashing water in Dead Man's
Attempting to look rugged in DM or "Gumdrop Valley"
The view of the east. It's hard not to look out and wonder who is out there, who is in need?
The port of entry at Sasabe, AZ
"The Wall"
Sleepy Sasabe
Saying farewell to the desert and some fellow volunteers
One last photo to remember the violence and death that is occurring right now in our country, under our watch. Border Patrol slashed this gallon and countless others, very well knowing that people are dying from heat exhaustion and dehydration. Illegally crossing borders is not punishable by death and humanitarian aid is never a crime. No matter what your stance on immigration, let's remember that people are dying, and their only crime is dreaming of a better life for themselves and their families.For more on Border Patrol abuses please check out A Culture of Cruelty--the extensive NMD report documenting thousands of abuses. It isn't a few bad apples; it's a culture.
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